The Sprkly Blog · thesprkly.com Migraine days are rude. They're annoying, they overstay their welcome, and they are rarely just one day long. Today is one of those days, so I'm writing to you from behind my eyeballs, where everything is a little too bright and a little too loud. Here's the thing nobody tells you about a hard day: life keeps going anyway. The baby still cries. The gan bag still needs packing. Shabbat still arrives on schedule, gloriously indifferent to whether

Someone asked me about my Mamad status and Mental State for research purposes. I told her, no mamad, we go to the miklat across the street. Husband takes the big kids, I take the baby and a carrier when I have time. Correction: I always bring the baby, but the carrier is contingent on time. Mental State: Back and forth between Maniacal Laughter and What-is-going-on-Confusion. But, we don’t have time for despair, so that’s good. In general, I am not one for despair, but I can

"Chooka chooka chooka BEEEEP" Another warning woke her up. She placed her pre wrapped Sprkly Hetzi over her bun, tucking in the sides of her hair and smooshing to the shape of her head. Then her shoes, a baby carrier, a baby, and a jacket/scarf. Her husband rallies the "big kids", aged three and six, in the other room. They walk downstairs, speaking clearly and gently so that the kids know where they are and mirror behaviors somehow. The neighbors emerge from their homes, an